


Blood Apples, Fair Feathers, Golden Flames

by Missy



Category: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Education, Established Relationship, F/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Reconciliation, Saving the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Snow has no idea why her stepmother was so protective of the laboratory she began to maintain after her father's death.  When she's grown - her stepmother dead and the palace there - she comes to learn much about the sort of woman her stepmother was.  And begins to learn how to bend the magic her stepmother had begun to practice to her own will.
Relationships: Prince/Snow White (Disney)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15
Collections: 2020 Disney Animated Movie Exchange (DAM Exchange)





	Blood Apples, Fair Feathers, Golden Flames

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DreamsInPinkandGold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsInPinkandGold/gifts).



_The glass was smooth._

_Snow had never seen anything like them before – the little beakers, the tiny tubes. In them bubbled miniscule amounts of bubbling, smoking fluids – red, green, gold, blue and purple were the colors. She would remember them, when she was older and when this castle was all hers, by right and deed. Whatever could her stepmother be doing with her time? And why was she so secretive about her time alone in this place?_

_A hand grabbed little Snow’s shoulder and spun her about. “What are you doing?!”_

_Snow looked up in alarm into the face of her stepmother. The anger in her face was not of the haughty, cold-eyed brand which normally haunted the woman’s beautiful, sharply-made features, but something akin to betrayal. It was as if Snow had picked a lock and spied some secret words in her diary, something that was never meant to be read by the eyes of another person._

_“I…” Snow said._

_Her stepmother took her by the hand and dragged her out of the room. Snow spent the afternoon scrubbing cement steps outside of the palace, tears of shame burning her eyes. She hadn’t meant to be cruel – hadn’t meant to invade her stepmother’s privacy. She’d only been curious. So very curious._

****

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The memory blinked out of view as Queen Snow White – she had to remind herself for the millionth time of her royal title - and her husband rounded the mountain pathway surrounding the old home-castle. Most of her memories of her childhood were sad and strained, but Snow refused to allow herself to be too terribly miserable about it.

She was older now – one and twenty, with her wonderful husband at her side, and several years of experience as a ruler under her belt. But her husband knew about what coming here did to her, and he stayed close.

“I could go in alone,” he said. “Could you watch the horses?”

“No,” she said. “This is something I need to do too.”

So together, with a lantern, they went from room to room in the castle in which Snow had been raised. She knew every brick, every strip of fabric, every piece of straw – she remembered the way the thrones glittered in the sunlight, though now they were tarnished by time.

“It’ll make a fine dower house for our firstborn,” he said, patting a long formal table. “Or would you like a summer home?”

“A dower house would be nice. We should send the Lord and Lady of Sunderland here to make it ready for others.” And so they’d have their own home, land poor as they were, and now the Sunderlands wouldn’t have to depend upon Snow or Charming settling their children advantageously. Perhaps Snow had a flare for governing after all.  


He smiled brightly. “Well,” he said, “it’s yours by right, I won’t gainsay you. With your stepmother erm…well, gone,” he said. “You still own your property and may do what you will with it.”

She nodded. “Will you come with me upstairs?” a flush tinted his apple cheeks. “Not for that!” she scolded gently. Instead they want to the laboratory and she carefully – oh so carefully – touched the detritus left behind by her stepmother’s hubris. The beautiful glass beakers and tubes, the puddles of red and blue and green.  
And – hidden inside of a jeweled box – an unused dagger. 

Snow took the weapon, though she doubted she’d ever make use of it. The box she left – and when bending over to set it aside saw an enormous tome made of fine white paper and blue leather.

“Whatever could this be?” she asked. Paging through it carefully, she couldn’t understand the words that lined the pages. 

“Was your stepmother Danish?” he asked.

“You recognize the language,” Snow remarked.

“Didn’t she ever have family over?”

“No,” Snow said. “It was like she popped up from the earth, no past, no future at all.”

He took the book and tucked it into his satchel. “we’ll go find someone who can translate it. Until then,” he said, “we should rest for the night. We’ll go home in the morning.”  


Snow nodded. She wasn’t entirely comfortable sleeping in the castle, but an overnight stay shouldn’t do any harm.

****

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Two months later, Lorette, the castle’s linguist, finally came forward from her intensely cloistered chamber with a new translation. 

“It’s a very powerful, very old book,” said Lorette to Snow. The two women were the only people of like age in the castle as Michaelmas neared. “There are spells in it that are the most fearsome sort I’ve ever seen.”

Snow wasn’t entirely shocked by this revelation. But she turned to Lorette and asked, “are there any kind spells? Ones that would spread goodness and cheer? Protective spells for the Prince?”

“Of course. Though your stepmother naturally didn’t take much note of them judging by how the pages were bent, or not in the case of the kinder spells. But Princess, magic can be dangerous, all-consuming – do you really want to learn the truth of such powers?”

“I’d…like to try. If I can make a change for good,” she said quickly.

“Of course,” said Lorette. “Well. The translation will be there, should you ever need it.”

They talked about the harvest, about the grain left in the stores. But Snow’s mind lingered upon the book. Upon hope.

And upon the future.

****

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It took her many weeks and months to figure out how to translate the spells into practicable magic, and even more how to bend them toward the good. She began simply – a protective spell on the royal orchards, to avoid losing the sweet fruit in the deep freeze. It worked so beautifully they actually grew a bumper crop of apples that year.  
Then she moved on to charming the keep’s wheat. Then the bakers, and the wheat mills, and the cider and brewer’s stills. Snow learned how to heal the children of her people, kept the deer plentiful and healthy. The birds and the squirrels thrived under her magical spells. The flowers grew up thick and beautiful wherever she trod, shedding golden petals like the birds feathers she had to burn for the magic to take place.

And then there were the charms of protection she’d learned so carefully. For the prince, whenever he had to negotiate with hostile kingdoms or leave the castle for extended periods of time, she followed close behind in her navy cloak, shadowing him – turning back their enemies with kind words, turning their hearts toward theirs with enchantments of their food and wine. And if they tried to harm him – and eventually any of their children – she learned the great art of magical warfare – how to freeze an enemy, to turn their men against them - and ultimately to stop their hearts cold if they threatened. Such dark thoughts were not in her nature, but unlike her stepmother she knew when to stop, how to stop, and how to defend her family.

Sometimes – with the words of new ingredients jostling about in her head – she thought of her poor stepmother. If only she’d been brave enough to believe in her brain and her soul, the beauty of her face would not have mattered. She had given Snow a great gift, but she would never know her grandchildren. All the more pitiful.  


It would be Snow’s job to safeguard their futures, to keep the kingdom peaceable, and to protect them all.  


It was a task she took on with pure hearted gladness, with a pocketful of feathers, and an apple in her dress pocket.


End file.
